


A Better Son/Daughter

by speccygeekgrrl



Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Bad Flirting, F/F, Gender Identity, Genderswap, Jealousy, Kinga becomes a less shitty person through the Power of Love, Kinga does something terrible, Kinga gets what she wants, Mad Science, Max gets what he wants, Max likes feeling pretty, Menstruation, Poor Max, Pronoun swap, Secrets, but what's new, gender fluidity, isn't it lovely when things work out like that, it couldn't be all kittens and flowers, the shit Max puts up with I swear, thoughtful gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2018-10-30 07:52:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10872417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: Kinga comes up with an invention exchange that works much, much better than she expected it would. Max did not sign up for this level of bullshit, but here he is dealing with it anyways. Maybe it won't be as bad as it seems at first blush.





	1. The Transformation

**Author's Note:**

> This actually started as a genre challenge snippet, and then it sort of took on a life of its own and demanded to be its own chaptered story and I was like "...okay, guess we're doing this." There will be at least two more chapters and the rating is bound to change as the story goes on, but... here we go!

"And then it cleans up after itself!" Jonah picked up the animate blob of sparkly goo and grinned. "What do you think?"

"I think you need to get a life of your own, Heston. And stop creating some ungodly form of life out of scraps you have lying around. It's creepy looking."

"I think it's super cute," Max said. "Does it come in other colors?"

"It could," Jonah said. "Why, do you want one?"

"No!" Kinga said. "No. I'm the only one who creates life on this moon base, damn it. Our invention is way cooler than that, anyways." She hit a button and the camera zoomed out on a ten-foot cube packed with machinery and the open door leading into it. "Now, who hasn't wondered what it would be like to be the opposite sex? What if you could try it out? Now you can. My genderswap machine will utterly transform any who enter it!" She poked Max in the side. "Go on, get in."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. Shut up. It barely hurts, you'll be fine." Max looked extremely doubtful, but did as he was told. Kinga closed the door behind him, swiped a few things on the tablet control beside the door, and hit a big red button. Lights flashed. Smoke vented. An ungodly scream came out of the machine. A fire started at the back of the machine and two Skeleton Crew ran over with extinguishers. A minute later, the door swung open and Max peeked out, looking very pale and shaky. 

"Uh... this is reversible... right?" 

"Oh, sure. Probably. Maybe." Kinga beckoned, and Max sighed and stepped out of the machine. 

"I feel so unbalanced," he complained, looking down at himself. The machine hadn't drastically altered him as far as Kinga could see-- mostly it just looked like it redistributed his weight, putting noticeable curves under the dark fabric of his coat. The hint of stubble he'd gone into the machine with had disappeared, but his hairstyle was the same. "I completely didn't sign up for anything like this. Can I change back now?"

"You're not curious at all? You just want to immediately undo it?" They'd both forgotten about Jonah until he spoke up. "That seems like a wasted opportunity..."

"It hurt a lot, I'd rather just hurt a lot twice quickly than twice spaced apart, thanks." 

"Well... um... that's not possible," Kinga said, poking at the tablet screen. "Oh boy. This is... yeah, this is gonna take some work."

" _What_?" The modulation of Max's voice was much more noticeable when it got even shriller in panic. "I'm stuck like this? For how long?"

"Ehhh..." She wiggled one hand in the air noncommittally. "Maybe a week? Maybe more than a week? I mean, I built it so I can fix it... probably. Maybe."

"Kinga... I hate you. I really, really hate you." Max walked off, gait uncertain, and Kinga frowned after him for a moment before shrugging and turning back to Jonah.

"Well, that's not a wasted opportunity, right? Anyways, you're going to loathe this movie. The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl--"

"Seen it," Jonah said.

"What, really?"

"Yeah, I babysat my cousins a lot. And it wasn't that bad for a kid's movie."

"Ugh!" Kinga stomped one foot in frustration. "Fine. What's the next one? Ardy?"

"Uh, that'd be The Apple, but it'll take some time to queue it up for you..."

"Okay! Heston, you're lucking out for-- how long?"

"About two hours," Ardy said.

"Two hours. Count your meager blessings and prepare yourself for the worst of 80s disco rock opera."

"Two hours? Me and the bots can write our own disco rock opera in two hours." Kinga didn't even dignify that with a response, just turned off the camera. She took a minute to look at the burned-out part of the genderswap machine, instantly assessed it as "too much of a problem to deal with right now," and went off to find her erstwhile assistant.

Max was in his room-- unsurprisingly-- but opened the door when Kinga knocked, very surprisingly. "I still hate you," he said, but less vehemently than before.

"Then we're even," Kinga said. "What happened? Did it work?"

"It worked," Max said, and stepped back from the door to let her in. Even under the stiff fabric of his black coat, she'd seen a change, but seeing him in a t-shirt made her realize that he'd been reshaped into curves she could only describe as luscious. He crossed his arms over generous breasts and gave her the third most convincing death stare she'd ever seen from him. 

"Uh, wow." He flushed under her lingering gaze. "Jeez, Max, you can be mad at me, but it didn't do wrong by you." 

"It did me wrong! I've been... unmanned!" 

"Look, it's not permanent. Okay? If I can't fix it, I can build a new one."

"It took you two years to build that one!"

"Yeah, from scratch! I have the blueprints now." She walked around him, inspecting him from all angles, and his head lowered in embarrassment. "Max. Seriously. You look cute. It's not that bad."

"I don't look cute," he said. "I look like myself except softer at the edges. I'm not cute."

"You're cute now." 

"Can you not make fun of me? This is bad enough."

"I'm not-- fine, believe whatever you want," Kinga said, rolling her eyes. "Are you going to be okay or do I need to keep an eye on you?"

"I'm not going to do anything drastic, if that's what you're asking," he sighed. "Not more drastic than _pushing me in a goddamn box that turned me into a girl_ \--"

"You seem emotional."

"Kinga I swear to god you are _such_ a bitch." They both looked shocked at the words. "Wow, I've thought that to myself so many times and never said it out loud before." He sat down on the edge of his bed, wide-eyed and thoughtful. "You know... this is kind of liberating."

"There you go. Look on the bright side. But don't call me a bitch again." She patted his shoulder and turned to leave. "Movie sign's in two hours. Try to get your bearings before then."

"Kinga?" She paused in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder. Max's brow was furrowed and he met her gaze hesitantly. "Are you going to make my life a living hell because of this? Cause I could... really use a break from that right now."

"Don't worry," she said, surprising herself. "I'll play nice. Girl fights are so cliched."

"Thanks."

Max was back in front of the camera in time for the delayed movie sign, black coat unbuttoned but scarf in place. He looked dazed, staring at the feed from the Satellite of Love.

"Gosh, Max, are you okay?" Jonah actually seemed concerned. Max shook his head slightly.

"Yeah, I'm-- I've never seen the color yellow before, that's all." 

"Really? That machine fixed your color blindness? Holy crap." Jonah gave Kinga an almost respectful look. "How'd you manage to rewrite on the DNA level? That's crazy."

"They don't call me a mad scientist for nothing, dork." Kinga looked pretty surprised by her own success, though. "All right, I hope your pathetic fumblings toward your own musical haven't inured you against the nightmare-fueled world that is The Apple. Send them the movie!" As soon as movie sign initiated, she grabbed Max's wrist. "I didn't know it fixed your color blindness. Come on, I need you in the lab right now."

"Wait-- wait a second--" She paused, frowning, and Max bit his lip, gazing into her eyes. "So that's what green is supposed to look like. It's a lot prettier than I imagined it could be." Kinga blinked and blushed, turning her head quickly.

"Come on," she said again, but she sounded shaken.

An hour later, they'd established that Max now had full color vision, when he'd been blue-deficient before he stepped into the machine. She spent a good fifteen minutes just identifying colors for him while the tests ran through the computer. The blood analysis proved that he'd been changed on a chromosomal level, but he flatly refused to take off any clothes for a visual inspection. "It wasn't your business four hours ago and it's still not your business now," he said primly, and Kinga snorted.

"You wanted it to be my business four hours ago and now you don't?"

"You're being a bitch again," he said. Kinga shook her head and turned away. 

"Whatever. If you're going to be like this for a while you're probably going to want clothes that fit. I could give you a hand getting your measurements..."

"It's not like I can go shopping."

"Sure you can. Order stuff online, mail it to Castle Forrester, and Brain Guy will send it up for you. No problem."

"I don't want anyone to know this happened!"

"Oh, come on, he's not going to make fun of you. Look, I'll just tell him that it's my stuff and not to open the packages, okay?" Kinga found a tape measure in a desk drawer and held it up. "Come on, I can help you shop if you want."

"Please, like you'd know how to flatter my figure." 

"You'd be surprised how much I know about plus-size fashion. Lift your arms up?" Max obeyed instinctively and Kinga wrapped the tape measure around him, making him giggle at the brush of her hands against his side as she took the measurement and moved the tape measure down. "Jeez, Max, you're statuesque. Straight up Renaissance style."

"I thought you said you wouldn't make fun of me," he said sullenly, and she shook her head.

"I'm not. I'm being honest. You're freaking adorable, okay? You're short and curvy and cute and just... squishable." She hugged him from behind after taking the last measurement and released him from the loop of the tape measure, stepping over to a desk to write the numbers down.

"I weigh exactly the same," Max pointed out. "It just changed my shape, not my mass. Is my shape really that important to you?"

"It makes a difference," Kinga said, and something in her voice made him turn around and look at her intently. Kinga stared back at him, not sure what her expression was revealing, but he seemed to be able to read it just fine.

"You've never looked at me like that before," he said slowly. "Why are you interested now?" Kinga rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Because I'm super queer, okay? I'm a big ol' lesbian. Always have been."

"And you couldn't have just come out and told me that this whole time I've been pining over you? Jeez, Kinga, that's... exquisitely cruel. So cruel." Kinga shrugged.

"If you lost hope, you might have left. I didn't want you to leave."

"So you strung me along on my pathetic hope to take advantage of my feelings to get a-- a-- a lackey?"

"A second banana," she said gently, and Max scowled. "Come on, Max. Don't act like you would have stuck around if you genuinely thought you didn't have a chance."

"I genuinely didn't think I had a chance and I stayed anyways. Because against all reason and self-interest, I loved you." He laughed bitterly. "I still do, and that kind of sucks. Because even knowing I've been manipulated isn't enough to make me leave."

"You still do?" Kinga's surprise colored her voice, and Max shrugged, not able to be nonchalant about it. "Max, your loyalty is..."

"Pathetic?"

"Astonishing," Kinga finished. "After everything I've put you through."

"Up to and including this," Max said, waving at himself. "Did you do this on purpose? Did you just want another female body around to-- to-- ogle?"

"No!"

"Are you sure? Cause this feels like the sort of insane cruel scheme you excel at." She gave him a wide-eyed hurt look, and he snorted. "Kinga. Please. Don't bullshit me about this. You only make that face when you're about to be found out."

"...look, it's not like you think it is," she said after a long moment. He pursed his lips and waved a hand for her to elaborate. "I was curious, okay? But I didn't know the machine would break. I just... wanted to see. Because it didn't-- it wasn't really your fault that I didn't love you back, okay? I've never been into guys. It never would have worked. And I just wanted to see what it would have been like if it could have worked."

Max didn't say anything, just blinked a few times and then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then another deep breath. Then another one. "Kinga Forrester... you are the single most fucked up person I have ever met in my life," he said solemnly. "I don't mean that to hurt your feelings. I just mean it just as a fact."

"That's probably fair," she said.

"I don't really want to be in the same place as you right now."

"Also probably fair." She handed him the piece of paper she'd written the measurements down on. "Well, a severe bout of retail therapy is a decent introduction to the world of women. Go shopping."

"Could you maybe just leave me alone until I can handle being around you again?"

"We have to do the movie containment in like... ten minutes."

"Do it without me."

"But--"

"Not today." He looked her up and down, expression a mixture of betrayal and confusion and resignation, and walked out of the lab. Kinga watched him go and tried not to stare at his ass when he left, but didn't do a good job of it.

"Honesty is never the best policy," she sighed to herself, and went off to change into her white coat and goggles.


	2. The Acclimation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes Max a few days to settle into his new shape. But it sure doesn't hurt that he's getting complimented in all directions now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know where this story is going now! This is good. Also: I am going to do my damndest to treat the gender stuff as sensitively as I can, but if I egregiously fuck something up, PLEASE tell me. I would rather take it down and correct it than leave something offensive up.

It took four days for Max to be able to deal with the bombs Kinga had dropped on him. Four days of loneliness, because the Skeleton Crew were terrible conversationalists and Synthia's loyalty was always to Kinga first. Four days of staying holed up in his room, because most of his clothes didn't fit any more-- none of his lab coats could button over his chest, most of his pants didn't fit over his wider hips. Four days of trying to get used to the new shape of his body, feeling top-heavy, acutely missing what he didn't have any more and feeling too awkward and shy to explore what it had been replaced with. 

He might not even have broken his solitude on day four, except Kinga came to his room with her arms full of the packages that had arrived for him and he didn't feel like telling her to drop them outside the door and go away. She gave him a faint, worried smile when he cracked the door open.

"Hi Max."

"Kinga."

"Here's your stuff..." He opened the door wider to let her in and she dropped all the boxes on his bed, then turned around with her hands clasped behind her. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm trying to make the best of it," he said with a shrug. "I've been looking at a lot of photos. Seeing how things should really look. It's so bizarre to suddenly see the whole spectrum. I don't even have names for some of these colors."

"So it's not all bad."

"No. It's not even mostly bad. It's just weird. I'm still myself... but just different enough to be constantly aware that something isn't right." He started opening the boxes and pulling out clothes. Kinga was surprised by the variety. She'd expected him to stick to shirts and pants, but he'd ordered a couple of dresses and skirts as well. He shrugged again at her curious look. "I might as well, right? I mean, I still think you're lying about me being cute, but this is my chance to be pretty. And I can actually see the colors so why not get colorful things?"

"No, yeah, that makes total sense," she said. "Your chance to be pretty.... isn't going to be brief, either." He looked down at the box he was opening, then glanced at her with his lips twisted to one side.

"How bad is the damage?"

"It's bad," she admitted. "Things got melted together, I'm having a hard time getting the ruined parts separated from what still might be functional. I won't know how long it'll take to repair until I get that done."

"Okay," he said.

"You're taking this very calmly."

"I don't want you to accuse me of getting overemotional," he snarked. "There's no point in being all upset about something I can't change, anyways. It's happening. It's going to continue happening. I can waste my time hating it, or I can do what I can to enjoy it." 

"That's a very mature way to handle it."

"I know you forget, but I _am_ older than you." Max went back to splitting the tape on the box in his hands and smiled when it came open, spilling out several colors of nail polish and an eyeshadow palette. "Oh, cool. Look, this is my new favorite color..." He opened the palette and pointed out a soft shade of lilac. 

"That's a nice one," Kinga said, brows arched. "Do you need help learning how to put it on?"

"I can look up YouTube tutorials."

"Help painting your nails, then?"

"You've seen my miniature collection. I think I can handle painting nails." 

"Can I help you with _anything_?" 

"You can help me by fixing the machine and getting me back to normal," he said evenly, and she made a quiet frustrated sound. Dark eyes studied her for a moment. "You know I can't trust you after what you told me, right?"

"I didn't do it to get into your pants! I told you I meant to reverse it."

"You don't see the way you're looking at me right now." Max made a mockery of her expression, going heavy-lidded. "Like I'm a red velvet cupcake."

"I'm the red velvet cupcake," Kinga said. "You're more like angel food cake."

"You're not helping your case."

"Oh, come on, Max. Are you afraid of me?"

"No. God knows I should be, but I'm not. But I don't have to be afraid of you to be worried about what you might do to me." Kinga sighed and took a few steps toward the door. 

"I want to defend myself... but you're not unjustified." She paused with her hand on the door. "I hope you won't be worried forever though."

"So do I," Max said softly, watching her close the door behind her as she went. He turned his attention toward the piles of fabric covering his bed and the cardboard boxes scattered all around the bed now and sighed to himself. It wasn't like he could return anything if it didn't fit, but he was a little apprehensive about trying everything on. What if it wasn't cute? ...what if it _was_ cute? What if it was _too_ cute and Kinga couldn't stop hitting on him and he was just awkward and uncomfortable from her attention-- attention that wasn't entirely unwanted, he could barely admit to himself. It wasn't how he'd wanted it, obviously, but he'd pointed out the way she'd been looking at him because he'd wanted to get that look so badly when he'd been just himself as he was.

He sorted the clothes out and set about trying them on, starting with the bras. He'd been disappointed by the lack of variety available in bras for his size. He'd gotten two plain beige ones and one black one with a little white lace on the bottoms of the cups, and that was the fanciest he'd been able to find. Bras were stupidly difficult, it turned out. He spent a few minutes trying and failing to clasp it behind himself after sliding the straps over his arms, took the whole thing off and clasped it just to make sure it wasn't broken, and finally put it on backwards and twisted it around after he clasped it in front. 

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself, frowning into the mirror as he adjusted until it was as comfortable as it seemed like it would get. "I look ridiculous." And he kind of did, still in his boxers too tight around his hips, but he looked a little less ridiculous when he swapped them for a pair of panties and gave himself another critical look in the mirror. 

Honestly, objectively, Max was pretty cute like this. Still fat, but in a pleasantly curvaceous way, he thought. He hadn't been super self-conscious about his weight before, but Kinga had been right when she said he hadn't been done wrong by the machine. He reached for the dress he'd been most excited to order and almost squealed when he saw himself in the mirror after pulling it on. It was a pretty fit and flare dress in a bluish shade of lilac, lace around the sweetheart neckline and a skirt that swirled around his hips. "I'm _adorable_ ," he said wonderingly.

It was a little difficult to change out of that dress, as enchanted by his own reflection as he was, but eventually he went through all the piles and tried everything on. Most of it fit well enough, except for one dress he'd ordered from a Facebook ad that barely looked like it would even fit Kinga. Finally in clothes that fit, he felt like he could venture out from his bedroom, and he knew exactly where he wanted to go first.

"Y'ello," Jonah said when the screen came to life. "It's not time for-- oh. Max? Holy Hannah." His jaw dropped. Max blushed slightly, not so secretly delighted by the reaction. "Uh. You look like you're doing well. How's life treating you?"

"Oh, you know, ups and downs," Max said mock-nonchalantly. "I had a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Can I see that thing you had for the last invention exchange again?"

"What, the Sticky? Sure, I left it in the laundry room-- it's got a taste for dryer lint. One second." Jonah disappeared and then came back a minute later with his hands full of sparkly goo. "Say hi to Max, Sticky," he said, and the goo extended a tendril and waved.

"Oh, wow. It's way prettier in color," Max said. He hadn't been able to see the vibrant shade of green the first time Jonah had shown it off; his colorblindness had turned it dull grey. "You said you could make them in different colors?"

"Yeah, I think so. You want one?"

"Yes please. Do you think you could make it this color?" Max plucked at the skirt of his dress, the pretty lilac one, and Jonah tilted his head slightly. 

"Probably. Less barium, more copper, touch of lithium... yeah, let me see what I can do for you. Give me a couple days."

"Take your time," Max said, grinning. "Thanks, Jonah. I haven't had a pet in too long."

"No problem. Happy to help." Max went to cut the connection and Jonah added, "Uh, Max... can I ask you a question?"

"I guess that's fair, go ahead."

"Kinga's invention-- that machine--" Max waved his hand impatiently and Jonah went on. "Do you think she'd make one on Earth? Only I have this friend who would probably literally murder someone to use it and I know Kinga wouldn't listen to me if I asked on his behalf."

"You know someone who would _want_ to do that?"

"Well... yeah. He's transgender. If he could actually swap his chromosomes... he'd freak out with joy. That would fix so many problems for him." 

"Oh..." Max's eyes widened. "I didn't even think about that. Wow. That's-- I bet she didn't think about it either."

"Yeah, I figured not. She's not the magnanimous type."

"I mean, your friend probably wants her to make one that doesn't break after a single use..."

"Well, I don't think he'd care as long as he was that single use, but he's not the only trans person in the world by a long shot." Jonah shrugged. "Just a thought. Maybe you could put a bug in her ear about it. She might listen to you."

"I can try," Max said, and Jonah smiled.

"That's all I can ask." Max went to cut the connection again, and Jonah interrupted him again. "Uh, Max..."

"Yeah?"

"That dress really suits you," Jonah said. "It's... cheerful. You look nice. That's all."

"Thanks," Max said, and he was smiling when he turned off the camera. He'd felt a little weird when Kinga complimented him, but Jonah's compliment hadn't felt like it came with an ulterior motive. Honestly... he felt a little more comfortable in his skin after hearing that. However long he was stuck like this, at least it wouldn't be unbearable.


	3. The Provocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga doesn't know the difference between being nice and being flirtatious because she sucks equally at both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I went and watched Patton's HBO special from 1998 and he literally started the set by talking about how he looks like a baby dyke, so I'm taking that as permission from him to write ladygay genderswap fic. (also OH MY GOD he was so young such a baby [says the woman who was 13 when it was recorded])
> 
> Anyways, the fates have decreed that this is foreordained. So here's some more of it.

Sunday morning was the next experiment, and Jonah had Max's Sticky ready to send down at invention exchange time. "It'll eat just about anything small," he warned. "It's great at cleaning countertops and bathroom surfaces. And this one seems... affectionate? It's been following me around, the other one was happy to stay where I put it."

"I thought I said no," Kinga said sullenly, but Max was clearly delighted when he picked up the sparkly handful of goo. The texture was more like warm putty, and the sparkles scattered throughout the Sticky's body made it look almost like an accessory. He held it up to his face, and the Sticky extended a tendril and booped his nose.

"Oh my _god_ , it's so cute." Max beamed. "Thank you, Jonah." He set it on his shoulder and the Sticky cuddled up to the side of his neck, getting itself in the folds of his scarf. It had only taken a couple of days to alter his work coats to fit his new topography, and Kinga couldn't stop herself from staring at Max. Max tried to ignore the staring.

"No problem. I do have a new invention for this week, actually..."

"You'd better," Kinga said. "I won't stand for this lazy recycling crap."

"That wasn't recycling," Jonah said, sounding a little offended. "That was a gift. And I hope you keep it in good health, Max." Kinga rolled her eyes and tapped her foot, and Jonah shook his head and reached under the table, bringing up a clamshell purse and unzipping it. "How many times have you been out in public and saw someone you wanted to avoid, but you couldn't get away?"

"So many," Kinga said. "I basically just want to avoid everyone. Why do you think I'm on the moon?"

"Uh... yeah. Anyways, this purse conceals a complete disguise kit! Look, there's a wig, stylish shades, a cute silk scarf, a poncho, a false nose..." Jonah pulled each item out of the purse and set it down as he talked. "And it also comes with a smoke grenade to help you make your escape!"

"Oooh," Max said. "That _is_ a cute scarf."

"You think so? I hand dyed it. Been playing around with textiles in the fab lab." It was a swirly pattern in lilac and powder blue. He might have been thinking about Max's preferences while he was making it, but he wouldn't admit that in front of Kinga.

"Nice job!" Kinga's expression got increasingly stormy as Max complimented Jonah.

"That's sexist, Heston. What about a disguise kit for men?"

"Are you saying men can't carry purses or wear scarves? Don't be so heteronormative, Kinga," Tom said, and she gave the bot an incredulous look. Jonah put on the wig, which was a blond bob, and tied the scarf over it, sliding the shades over his normal glasses. 

"See? It still works."

"Not with the stubble."

"Still got the smoke grenade," Crow said cheerfully.

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. "I don't want to run away from my problems, I want to slaughter them mercilessly." 

"Yeah, well, most of us aren't completely out of our minds in the homicidal way," Jonah said, and Max made a sound suspiciously close to a laugh. Kinga turned to glare daggers at her assistant.

"Watch it."

"I didn't say a word," Max said, composing his face into a look of total innocence. "Why don't you show him what you've got?"

"Who's in charge here?" Kinga said, aggrieved, and walked off screen, coming back with an amber bottle in one hand and a weird looking plant in the other. "This is intended for people who would love to have a guard dog for home defense, but are too allergic to actually get one." She handed the plant to Max and shook something out into her hand, holding it up to the camera. "These look like teeth, but they're actually seeds to the Forrester Foe Trap." She stroked the weird plant with a fingertip and it split open to reveal a fanged maw. "Venus fly traps are for bored grade schoolers. _This_ plant is pure vegetable menace."

"That's... unsettling," Jonah said. "What do you feed it?"

"It can photosynthesize in case it doesn't eat, but it prefers a diet of rodents. It'll take a chomp out of anything that comes too close, though. Ideal for planting underneath windows to deter home invaders." Max rolled his eyes and put the plant down, then rolled up one sleeve to show a dark purple bruise halfway up his forearm.

"It's pretty indiscriminate," he said. "It's like having a poorly trained dog except it isn't cute."

"You don't like dogs anyways," Kinga said.

"Yeah. The bar was already low and it failed to be cleared."

"Well, _I_ like it." Kinga took the plant back from him and tickled it where the mouth part of the plant met the stem. The maw snapped shut, and she brought it away to set it down. "On the topic of hungry plants, your movie today features Godzilla fighting a mutant plant. Because toxic rosebushes with monster DNA make for a perfect foil for Godzilla, am I right?"

"Isn't your plant just a toxic fly trap with monster DNA?" Tom asked.

"Absolutely not! I didn't use monster DNA in that plant. I used dinosaur DNA. Totally different." 

"Oh, of course," Crow said. "Totally different." 

"Shut it, Sarcasti-bot 3000. Time for you to enter the nightmare-fueled world of Godzilla vs. Biollante! Send them the movie!" The connection to the SOL cut as movie sign initiated, and Kinga turned to Max looking furious, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?" Max asked. He'd picked the Sticky back up into his hands and it was currently wrapping itself around his wrist. 

"All... all that! With Heston! Is something going on there? Why are you flirting with him?"

"I'm not flirting with him," Max said, and she couldn't tell if his smile was because he was lying or because the Sticky tickled his wrist. "He did me a favor, that's all. I can't be nice to someone who does nice things for me?"

"You never act like that with me," she said petulantly, and he looked up at her with his brows arched.

"You never do nice things for me," he pointed out. "Maybe if you tried it, you'd see a difference." Kinga's eyes widened and she covered her mouth with one hand, studying him intently. "You have no idea how to, do you?"

"Not really," she admitted. "I could make you a pet? I could make you something cuter than that sparkly blob."

"Okay, first, don't insult my little Squishy. And second... you don't know what I think is cute."

"You used to think I was cute."

"No, I used to think you were beautiful. I still do. But you're so damn mean." 

"I can make you anything you want. Just tell me what and I'll make it for you."

"I want you to make a genuine attempt to make me happy without trying to get me into bed with you," Max said. "Because you're still looking at me like I'm something delicious you want to devour and frankly I'm not any less nervous about it than I was a few days ago."

"I don't want to manipulate you into sleeping with me," Kinga said, and Max golf-clapped.

"Oh, very good, that almost sounded believable."

"I don't! I don't want to trick you into it, I just... want you to want me back. You wanted me for so long and the minute I started wanting you back you pushed me away."

"You didn't start wanting me until you actually literally manipulated every cell in my entire body. Jeez, Kinga, do you even hear the things you say? Do you believe your own bullshit? I'm genuinely curious."

"What do you want me to say, Max? Seriously. I can't change my sexual orientation, okay?"

"You could have told me."

"I didn't tell _anyone_. I've had like two girlfriends ever. I tried to come out to my grandma once and she laughed in my face. No, I didn't tell you. I should have. But I thought you'd give me as much shit as anyone else I ever tried to tell. More, because you were in love with me."

"As long as we've known each other and you still know me so little," Max said sadly. "I wanted you to be happy. I wanted to be the one to make you happy, but if you'd just told me that wouldn't happen I would have wanted you to be happy with someone else."

"You could be the one to make me happy now," Kinga said, a little desperately, and Max shook his head.

"If you can change me into what you want me to be without even asking, you're going to have to try harder than that to be what I want you to be after I've asked you nicely. It's not a one way street any more. You have to make me happy too." 

"Can't you give me a hint?"

"I literally spelled it out for you not five minutes ago. I'm not going to give you the Cliff's notes on how to seduce me. Make an effort. I'm really not that hard to impress." Kinga looked somewhere between furious and despondent. Even with everything he'd just said, Max's instinct was to console her. He bit the inside of his cheek and turned away instead. "You know where to find me when you figure it out."

"You're bailing on the experiment again?"

"I'll be back for the containment. But I don't think you're going to focus on what I just said unless you're alone." Kinga waited until he was gone to growl in exasperation and rub both hands over her face.

"Okay. Be nice. I can be nice. Can't I?" The answer was no and she knew it, but Kinga was almost as good at lying to herself as she was at lying to other people.


	4. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga is trying to do what Max asked of her. Max has another request to make, though.

Kinga was a woman on a mission. That the mission was to win back the heart of the person she'd fended off for so long was, frankly, just Forrester karma in the purest way. That she was comprehensively failing at it with every attempt was her own personal Kinga karma. Max wasn't being cruel to her, but neither was he encouraging her fumbling attempts to be nice.

Honestly, the worst part about it was the lack of contact. Before she'd forced things to go pear-shaped, Max had constantly been at her side, close enough to brush shoulders, and Kinga didn't realize how often she took advantage of that until it was denied her. And it really sucked now that Max was basically her ideal shape to cuddle up to but kept her firmly at arm's length. Kinga was pretty sure that she could cut through all this sucking-up stuff if she could just get her arms around Max, but Max was making very sure that she didn't get the chance. It was infuriating, but she knew that losing her temper would be counterproductive.

The first week after he issued the challenge was frustrating. She tried making cookies for him, but they turned out terribly. He'd always been the culinarily gifted one of the two of them anyways; she'd never be able to impress him with her cooking. She did manage to acquire a couple of boxes of Girl Scout cookies through dubious means (meaning she got Brain Guy to steal some of Grandma's stash out of her freezer), but Max's tastebuds had also been altered to the point where Thin Mints didn't taste as good and Kinga's gift fell flat.

The second week was worse as she flailed around for nice things to do, but by week three they'd settled into an uneasy sort of equilibrium. Kinga had never had to woo anyone before-- she hadn't instigated her prior relationships, but she hadn't been particularly difficult to win over, either. Max had said that fixing the machine would be the best thing Kinga could do for him, but once she got the ruined machinery removed, she realized that the repair job would take at least three months even if she did nothing but work on it. 

The best way to get him to keep her company, she discovered, was to work on the machine. He'd always been her assistant in the lab anyways; at least that dynamic hadn't changed between them, and he seemed happier when she was doing as he asked. For the first couple of days they didn't have much to say to each other. Kinga found herself getting distracted by staring at Max, and every time Max caught her at it he'd give her a disappointed look. It didn't take her long to learn how to sneak glances and keep working steadily, and their usual idle work chatter slowly started back up. 

They'd been at it for a few hours by the time Max brought up what had been troubling him since Jonah mentioned it. He handed her a wrench and cleared his throat, and she looked up at him wide-eyed and attentive.

"Kinga... you could do a lot of good with this machine." Max bit his lip. "If you could get it to work and not break, you could change people's lives. Do you know that? You could _save_ people's lives."

"But I want to use it for evil," Kinga whined. "I want to kidnap politicians and hold their gender hostage until they do my bidding."

"That's not even necessarily evil," Max pointed out. "Depending on what you wanted to make them do. You could do more to enact gender equality than any person alive."

"Well... I guess..."

"I know you want to be evil. I know that's your life goal. But seriously, _why_? Just because it's your family's history?"

"I have to live up to the Forrester name."

"Don't live up to it. Exceed it. Change the entire world, but do it for the right reasons."

"But I want to get rich off it!"

"Look, you're thinking about it as a blackmail tool. Think about it as a medical procedure."

"Huh?"

"Do you know how much money transgender people spend on surgery to alter their bodies? It's... it's pretty appalling how expensive those procedures can be. I've been looking things up since I changed, just to see what other people's experiences are, and... it's brutal. This machine does in a couple of minutes what people spend tens of thousands of dollars and years of their lives to do with so much more pain in the process." Max caught Kinga's hand and Kinga's eyes widened. "I know you want to be a villain. But you could be a goddamn superhero."

"That's not the point of it," Kinga said, but Max could see the gears turning in her head. "You think it could be profitable?"

"Even if you made it affordable enough for anyone to get it done, you'd still make bank, I promise. And you would be saving lives. A lot of people end their own lives because their bodies aren't hospitable to their minds. This machine could prevent that."

"I could-- I don't know," she said, clearly wavering. "I'm not a good guy, Max. Wouldn't it undercut the blackmail operation to be do-gooding on the side?"

"Oh, don't even ask me what I think. If I was in charge of this, I'd turn it into a non-profit. Blackmail the politicians and use their generous payments to get their limp dicks back to subsidize the genderswap for people who genuinely want it."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you? Leveraging me into some sort of redemption?"

"Kinga, I swear to god." Max dropped her hand. "How long have I been at your side doing nefarious things? Do you even know how long it's been?"

"Do you want a number of years, or is 'the only part of my life that counts for anything' a sufficient answer for you?" Max's eyes widened, and Kinga smirked bitterly. "It's been this long, Max. Have you had cold feet this whole time and I just didn't notice?"

"No," Max said. "No. I was one hundred percent behind you until you turned my entire life upside-down. I've been looking at things differently. And frankly, you did it to yourself, so don't look at me like that." That interrupted the sulky look developing on Kinga's face. "You fucked up when you did this to me. But you could take that fuckup and turn it into the pinnacle of your career. You could outdo every Forrester who's ever lived. All those generations of mad science with nothing concrete to show for it... you'd be the superstar of your entire family."

"It's not that big a deal," Kinga said. "...is it?"

"Yeah, it kind of is." Hesitantly, she reached out and caught his hand, and he let her keep it. "I want you to succeed," he said softly. "At this, and just in general."

"You want me to succeed so you can get what you want."

"No. I want you to succeed because I care about you and I'm tired of watching you get worn down by failure. You deserve to win sometimes."

"There's only one thing I care about winning right now," she said, stepping closer and leaning in to kiss him swiftly, afraid to miss her chance. He made a soft startled sound and swayed into her, and for a second it was perfect, exactly what she wanted. 

"That's not what I meant," he murmured, pulling back to study her face. Kinga tried not to let her desperation show quite so obviously and watched him right back, not missing how adorably flushed his cheeks were from that brief kiss.

"You didn't seem to hate it," she replied, and he huffed a breath of a laugh.

"I don't hate anything about you, Kinga."

"You used to love me."

"I still do." She reached out to hug him and he took a step back, shaking his head. "But you don't love me."

"You can't tell me what I feel."

"You don't love _me_ , Kinga, you just love me like this. And I don't plan on staying like this."

"You've got at least another two months..." 

"I want you to win sometimes. But I can't let you win this without feeling like I'm losing something." She sighed, face falling, and he paused before adding, "...but I probably won't feel that way for two whole months."

"Now I feel like you're toying with me," she sighed, and he smiled slightly and took another step back. 

"I just don't want you to stop putting in the effort. Keep trying, okay?"

"Am I at least getting better at it?" she asked desperately.

"Keep trying," he said again, grinning at her before he turned to leave the room, skirt swirling around his legs. Kinga leaned against the machine, arms crossed, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

Keep trying? No kidding she was going to keep trying. She wasn't going to stop until she got what she wanted. And she wouldn't get what she wanted until he wanted it too.


	5. The Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga finally does a nice thing. Max is very, very appreciative that she figured one out. That leads to something even nicer for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooooooooly fuck it took me five fucking months to write this chapter because FUCKING PRONOUNS. but I swear there's a reason for the way they are. and it will not take five months for you to find out because the next chapter is almost complete already. so! please enjoy the cute that becomes the sexy. (also... 4 chapters = 7000 words, chapter 5 = 4000 words. okay, me. I get it. porn is my niche. geez.)

When Max came into the room, Kinga was sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning partway into the open panel of the machine. She sat back and looked up at Max. "Morning."

"It is morning," Max agreed, and held out a hand to her. Kinga arched a brow, but Max didn't say anything, just kept offering his hand until she took it and he pulled her to her feet.

"Don't you want me to keep working on the machine?" Kinga asked, and Max shrugged.

"Not today. I'm not in any rush. I don't want you to stop altogether, but... I kind of feel like spending time with you today not handing you tools or with your focus elsewhere."

"So you want me to focus on you," Kinga said with a slow smile, and Max pursed his lips.

"Don't make this weird, Kinga."

"Oh, give me a break. That was barely flirting." He cracked a slight smile, and she huffed. "Are you just fucking with me now?"

"What can I say, it's refreshing to be on this side of the mind games for a change."

"Maaaaax."

"I want to hang out with you," he said. "Can we just hang out?"

"Yeah, sure, if that's what you want." Kinga brushed her fingers against the back of Max's hand and Max didn't dissuade her. "Actually, I had something I wanted to do with you."

"Yeah, I know you do."

"I didn't even do it that time, you did it that time," Kinga said, pointing at him. "I said something totally innocent."

"Did you?" Max looked like he wanted to laugh.

"Look, are you going to make innuendos all day, or are you going to let me show you the nice thing I tried to arrange for you?" Max's eyes widened, and then he smiled.

"Well, if you actually did a nice thing, of course I want to find out what it is." Kinga held out her hand expectantly, beaming when Max took it. "Where to, boss?"

"My room. _Don't_ say it." Now Max did laugh, letting Kinga pull him along. "You just love to make things hard for me, don't you?"

"Can you blame me?" Kinga had to give him that one. She'd spent years gratuitously making his life difficult, and now that he was in a position for retribution, he'd gone remarkably easy on her, all things considered. He'd been withholding contact, yes, but not withholding affection any more, and she was pathetically happy just to hold his hand like this. She only let go of him when they reached her room because she couldn't give this gift one-handed.

"Close your eyes," she said, and he did. He looked painfully cute with winged eyeliner. She suppressed the urge to kiss him and reached under the bed to pull out his gift. "I don't know how long you'll be able to use these before you can't see most of them again, but while the spectrum's yours, you should have the use of as much of it as possible," Kinga said, turning around with a long, flat black box of 150 Prismacolor pencils and setting it in his outstretched hands. His eyes popped open and went wide.

"These are... for me?" Max set it on her bed, lifted the lid of the box and bit his lip at the sight of the colored pencils, lifting the trays out until all hundred and fifty pencils were arrayed in front of him.

"Yeah. Now you can name all those colors. Do whatever you want with them. Go crazy." Kinga pulled the other part of her gift out of the desk and offered them to him-- two coloring books, one of flower mandalas and one of animals. He hugged them to his chest for a moment, staring at her wide-eyed, then set them down next to the pencil box and hugged her instead, the first time he'd put his arms around her in nearly a month.

"Thank you," he whispered, and she couldn't even say anything, too overwhelmed with relief to be allowed to wrap her arms around him finally. She'd spent sleepless nights wracking her brain for a good way to show him she cared, and it had been worth every second to see the look on his face as he accepted her offering. It was a struggle to make herself let go of him, but the gift was no good if he didn't get a chance to use it, and honestly... she was excited to sit around and color with him. It was so simple and innocent and she was curious to see what sort of color combinations he'd put together without a lifetime of complementary color knowledge to lean on. He looked absolutely delighted as he sat on the edge of her bed and started flipping through the pages of the books.

They spent a good couple of hours sprawled out on her bed peacefully coloring, a couple of hours during which Kinga could stare as much as she liked because he didn't look up long enough to notice. He looked so purely happy picking through the colors for just the right shades, reading the name on each pencil before he selected one. Kinga picked out a lily to color, something not terribly complicated so she could spend most of her time watching Max but still look like she'd been doing something. Max had chosen to color a dragon on top of a hoard of gold and gems, chewing on his lip with focus as he filled in every scale until the dragon was a shimmering rainbow.

"That's really beautiful," Kinga said when Max set down a pencil and took a moment to crack his knuckles and rub his wrist. His hands looked exactly the same as they had before, square and strong, except for the flawlessly painted nails. He looked up with a bright smile, and she couldn't help herself. "But not as beautiful as you."

"I'm not that pretty," he said, cheeks flushing pink, and Kinga shook her head.

"You're not a good judge. No offense, but you've spent our whole friendship thinking that I'm the gold standard of beauty. But I'm a lifelong connoisseur of what's beautiful, and trust me, Max..." She reached out to touch his cheek gently. "You're absolutely beautiful."

"I'm still the same person," he said. "I still look like myself."

"You still are yourself," she agreed. "I don't think you're anyone else. You're the same person who's been at my side all along. I told you when this happened, it wasn't your fault that I didn't love you. You never did anything wrong. But-- you wouldn't have loved me the same if I'd been the one who walked into the machine."

"Why wouldn't I have?" Max asked. "Don't be stupid, of course I would have."

"You... would?"

"Yeah," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It wouldn't have mattered to me. I'm in love with you, not your anatomy."

"But aren't you straight?"

"Kinga Forrester, I know you're not stupid, but you sound really stupid right now." She gave him a puzzled glare, and he sighed. "I just want you. I _only_ want you. I don't think it would matter what sex or gender you were. The machine didn't change who I am and it wouldn't have changed who you are either."

"Oh," Kinga said, taken aback. "You-- really?"

"If you fix the machine we could test the theory, but I'm pretty sure if you're that devoted a lesbian you'd just be horrified and perhaps scarred by the experience," he said dryly. "You'd still be hot to me either way."

"Oh."

"My fantasies would require a few adjustments, but that's not difficult."

"You sound so blase about it."

"I've had a month to consider the implications of your invention," he said with a laugh. "I may have spent some time thinking about it. I mean, the way it did happen... I'm mad because you didn't ask. Not because I'm in a different shape now. Honestly, this has been a really interesting experience. I'm... I'm sort of glad it happened. I just wish you'd given me a choice about it."

"I'm sorry," Kinga said, and meant it. "I fucked up."

"Say that again," Max said.

"I fucked up."

"No, the other part."

"I'm sorry?"

"Yes, that. I don't think I've ever heard you say that before."

"I _am_ sorry. You deserve to be treated better. I was awful to you." Max made a quiet whimpery sound and pressed his hand to his mouth, and Kinga's eyes widened. "Are you _turned on_?"

"That's probably the sexiest thing you've ever said to me," Max said defensively, and Kinga smirked and leaned over to kiss him, shamelessly pressing the advantage while she had it. Max tangled a hand in her hair and kissed her back with all the enthusiasm of the years he'd spent longing for her. It was immediately obvious that he'd spent the entire time he held her at arms' length wishing he didn't have to. They shifted closer on the bed, and Kinga spilled the tray of pink and purple pencils as she reached for Max. "Wait, wait... I don't want to break them," Max said, reluctantly drawing away. Kinga helped collect them back onto their tray, the trays were relocated to the desk, and the moment Max returned to the bed Kinga wrapped herself around him, pressed together the whole length of their bodies.

"You smell amazing," Kinga said, kissing his neck. "What is that?"

"Exactly the same body wash I was using before," Max said with a laugh. "I didn't even change my deodorant, I'm using all the same stuff. I shouldn't smell any different."

"But you do," Kinga insisted.

"I think you just didn't pay attention before." Kinga shook her head but busied herself with kissing Max more, lips tracing a path up to his ear so she could nibble on the lobe and make him gasp. "But I'm not complaining," he added. "It's... okay for me to touch you now, right?"

"Absolutely," Kinga said. "You want me to--"

"I've always wanted you to," Max said. "The details got a little weird, but I trust you to show me how it works now."

"You've, um, figured it out a little by yourself...?" Max turned very pink.

"I tried but I couldn't-- oh, jeez." He shrugged slightly. "What I did felt good? But I just got worked up, I didn't, uh, get anywhere with it." Kinga's eyes widened and a grin spread across her face like dawn breaking.

"Oh my god. I need to-- I'm going to make you feel so good, I swear. Let me make you come?"

"Uh, _yes_ ," Max said. "But I want to--"

"Let me do this first," Kinga said, nudging Max onto his back and running a hand down his side possessively. "You have no idea yet. Trust me."

"I do." The one thing Max had definitively discovered was that arousal felt completely different in a female body than a male one, less focused, not a linear progression to a point of completion but more like waves of pleasure with an ebb and flow he still hadn't gotten the hang of yet. Her fingers slid under the hem of his shirt and up, sending warmth fluttering through him while she bared his skin, as she bent to kiss her way up the soft curves of his belly and bite gently through the cups of his bra.

"Take this off," she said, and Max couldn't obey fast enough. Kinga unhooked his bra in the moment he curled up to pull off the shirt, and Max bit his lip as she removed it from him. "You're stupidly gorgeous, you know."

"I feel like you're lying but I don't want you to stop," Max said, and Kinga smirked at him.

"Believe me, I have no intention of stopping. Just tell me if I do something you don't like." She traced her fingers up his side, ticklishly gentle, and he squirmed into her touch, not away from it.

"I don't think you understand how long and how badly I've wanted you to touch me. Just don't actively try to hurt me and you can do just about anything you want to."

"Don't say that unless you really mean it." She bit her lip as she filled her hands with the breasts she'd been lowkey obsessed with ever since Max got rearranged, and Max gasped and arched his back slightly.

"See, your tone of voice says I should be worried, but I'm not worried, I'm just really excited." He wasn't kidding. She could feel his racing heart under her palm. Hers felt like it was pounding just as hard.

"I know I told you to trust me but you trust me more than you should."

"So what's new? At least I'm getting something I want this time. It's already better than any other time I've trusted you. Are you going to keep trying to scare me or are you going to do something worthwhile with your mouth?" Kinga's jaw dropped, and Max saw a split second flash of a smile as she bent to catch a nipple between her teeth. "Ah-- be nice," he gasped, but she didn't bite hard, just nibbled until it peaked and Max squeaked. "You-- you said I can touch you right?"

"Mmhm..." Max ran his fingers through her hair but didn’t pull it out of the bun as she moved to his other breast and they both sighed. Kinga was on a mission and nothing would distract her from the goal of rocking Max's world, not even the certainty that his hands on her would be amazing. She'd always been a proactive lover who liked getting reactions out of people, and Max reacted beautifully, shivering and sighing and melting back against the bed when Kinga's kisses started to venture further down his body. Her fingers went for the button on his pants. "Let me take these off you."

"Please," Max breathed, and she wanted to purr at the need in his voice. He lifted his hips to let her pull them down, legs pressed demurely together as she bared him completely. She ran her hands up his thighs and squeezed his hips, and he tugged on her shoulder. "Kiss me again," he pleaded, and she was happy to fulfill his request, biting softly at his lower lip until he whimpered again.

"Is this all okay?" Kinga asked, fingertips tracing up where his legs were pressed together. He took a deep breath and nodded, letting his legs fall apart under her touch, and she smiled and palmed one soft thigh until her fingers brushed curls. "I want to put my mouth on you," she said.

"I wish you would," he answered, and her eyes lit up. "You don't have to ask."

"No, I like to hear you say that you want it," she said, and he lifted his head, dark eyes dazed when they met hers.

"I want you to touch me. With your mouth and your hands and your whole body. Show me how good I can feel like this, because I don't know yet." He looked punch-drunk. She wanted to absolutely ruin him with pleasure, and he'd just given her permission to do it.

"Move up on the bed," she said, getting herself settled between his legs when he complied. She dropped kisses on both his thighs, desperately wanting to leave marks on all that pale soft skin and hoping she'd be allowed to come back and do it later. "Stop me if you don't enjoy this," she added, dragging her thumb through his folds. Whatever he'd been about to say turned into a squeak when she found his clit and rubbed firmly. She watched in amusement as he struggled for words and then gave up with a whimper. He let his head fall back against the bed and she smirked and turned her attention on what she was doing.

Honestly, it wasn't like she'd been with a ton of women. She'd only had two girlfriends and a very scattered handful of one-or-two-night-stands. That didn't mean she didn't know exactly what she was doing, though. Those relationships had lasted long enough for her to get good at the things she liked to do, and she wanted to do all of them to Max while she had the chance. It was very hard to fend off the thought that maybe if she did them well enough he wouldn't be so eager to get back to the shape he was used to.

She thought it was cute that the curls between his legs were greying the same as the ones on his head, ruffling her fingertips through them and getting a breathless giggle out of him. Taking her time kissing up his thigh, she was more than a little giddy breathing in the scent of his arousal, until she couldn't resist any longer and gave him one long, teasing lick. The sound he made at the touch of her tongue was more surprise than anything, a startled little "ah!" that melted into a honey-sweet "ahhhh" when she did it again but slower. "Please," he said, and she lifted her head only enough to look up at him. "I don't know what I need but I know you can give it to me." As long as they'd worked together, she shouldn't have been surprised that he knew just what to say to appeal to her particular need to be needed. After all, if there was anyone who knew how she operated, it was Max.

"Are you in a rush?" she asked teasingly, and laughed when he nodded. "Got someplace to be?"

"Just frustrated from a month without an orgasm," he said, and she smirked and stuck two fingers in her mouth for a moment. His eyes got wide when she pulled them out slowly and teased his entrance with them.

"So you want an orgasm," she said.

"...is this a trick question?"

"Not at all." She grinned. "You're just thinking small. Don't worry, I'm not letting you out of this bed until you've had several of them. But I can get the first one out of the way if you're that frustrated." His eyes went even wider before she dropped her gaze and her mouth back to what she'd been doing before, pressing both fingers into his wetness slow and steady and flicking her tongue against his clit. He made a wordless, broken sound that she immediately decided that she needed to hear again but louder. Max was easy, though, easy to please and easy to overwhelm, so desperate for her touch and so ridiculously sensitive to it that Kinga barely needed to try to get what she wanted out of him. She'd made him scream in pain more times than she could easily remember, but making him scream in pleasure was so much more satisfying for the both of them.

She didn't let up until he pulled her hair, and even then she took it as encouragement at first, until he whimpered, "wait, please," and then she looked up with the most smug smirk he'd ever seen on her face.

"What's wrong?" She rubbed the back of her hand over her mouth and he whimpered again. "Too much?"

"I can't-- I don't know how to process it," he said helplessly. "It feels so different like this. It used to be-- I don't know, focused. This isn't focused."

"Focused," she repeated thoughtfully. "Was it, though? Or were you only focused because you were doing it to yourself?" He blinked and she grinned at him. "Is it good, at least?"

"Yes," he answered instantly. "I don't want you to stop, just... it's a lot. All of this is a lot to take in." Part of Kinga told her to continue ruthlessly pleasuring him, but the look in his eyes drowned out that evil impulse and made her move up the bed, cupping his cheek and kissing him sweetly. 

"Tell me what you want," she said, and he licked his lips thoughtfully before curling a hand at the back of her neck and pulling her back to be kissed again, taking his sweet time and chasing the wholly unfamiliar taste of himself in her mouth.

"I want to touch you," he murmured. "I've wanted to touch you for so long. Please let me?"

"One second," she said, and hopped off the bed to shed her clothes, intensely gratified by how stunned he looked as she dropped each article of clothing to the floor. She didn't try to be seductive about it-- she didn't need to be, for one, and the last time she'd tried to be seductive she'd been laughed at, although she was certain that Max wouldn't laugh at her now. The last thing she did was pull the bone pins out of her hair and toss them on her desk, and he made a helpless sound as it cascaded around her shoulders.

"You're beautiful," he said, and she grinned. "Savagely, heartrendingly beautiful."

"You make me sound dangerous."

"You are dangerous." She climbed back on the bed and prowled up to him, and he added uncertainly, "but you're not going to hurt me."

"No?"

"How can you hurt me when everything you do to me is bliss?"

"Oh, I want to test the limits of that so badly, you have no idea."

"I bet you do," he said. "Maybe next time I'll let you." He pulled her on top of him and settled his hands on her waist, looking up at her like he didn't quite believe she was there. "I swear if I wake up and this was all a dream I'm going to throw myself out an airlock."

"Drastic," Kinga said. "And unnecessary." She bit her lip when he moved his hands to cup her breasts. "Next time, huh?"

"Assuming you want to do this again." He rolled her nipples between fingers and thumbs, and she hummed with pleasure.

"Safe assumption to make." 

“Tell me what to do to please you?”

“Come on, you’ve wanted this to happen for how long? Surely you’ve thought about what you want to do. It couldn’t all have been dick related.” He pouted at her, and she tried not to laugh. “What you’re doing now is good, my nipples are really sensitive.”

“Really?” He leaned up to catch one in his mouth, she dug a hand into his curls and pulled, and they both sighed happily. It didn’t take him long at all to discover that she was a bit of a masochist on top of the sadistic side he was familiar with, from the way she purred when he bit a little harder than he meant to. Of course, she took him biting as license to bite back, and this turned into a playful tussle that ended with her pinning his wrists to the bed next to his head and biting his neck and him writhing against the thigh she pressed between his legs, making helpless thrilled sounds. “I should have seen this coming,” he gasped, and she made a questioning sound and didn’t lift her mouth from his skin until she’d left a vivid red mark there. “You holding me down like this.”

“Yes, you probably should,” she agreed, and kissed him hard before grinning down at him. “You don’t seem to mind.”

“I mind not touching you,” he said, and she let go of one hand just to see what he’d do with it, delighted when he sent it between her legs to stroke curiously with his fingertips. 

“Put them inside me.” He bit his lip and did as he was told, sliding one finger into her slowly. She tossed her head. “Two of them,” she demanded, and purred with satisfaction when he obeyed. She slid her hand down to do the same to him, and it only took a few seconds for him to start imitating what she did to him, fingers curling and thrusting. She leaned down to take his mouth in a biting kiss and didn’t stop until she’d dragged another climax out of him, leaving him trembling under her as she rode his hand to her own satisfaction. She melted against him, her breath rough in his ear, letting go of the hand she’d kept captive so he could wrap that arm around her. 

“Was that okay?” He sounded tentative. She lifted her head to kiss him.

“Not bad for a first attempt,” she said teasingly. “But I look forward to helping you polish those skills.” She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen pure delight on his face before now. When she shifted off of him and cuddled up to his side, he put the fingers that had been inside her into his mouth and smirked at her around them when she made a needy sound.

“I’m a quick learner,” he said.

“Oh, believe me, I know.” 

“Next time I want to lick you, though.”

“Max, swear to god, ‘next time’ is going to be about twenty minutes from now.” 

“Oh?”

“I think you deserve to be cuddled first.”

“In that case, I agree completely.” She smiled and pressed her lips against the mark she’d left on his neck. She’d let him out of the bed if he wanted to go, but until then, she was perfectly content to keep him occupied.


	6. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a few weeks, it looked like this was actually not a terrible thing to happen to Max. But nothing is that easy. Even when things get hard, though, it doesn't change Max's mind about what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think (maybe?) this is the penultimate chapter.

"I think I'm dying," Max said as soon as he caught sight of Kinga, who was elbow-deep in working on the machine. "I honestly think my appendix is about to burst, I'm in agony right now." The tightness of his voice made her look sharply away from what she was doing. She watched him hobble closer, one brow arching. 

"Your appendix?" Kinga asked, completely bemused until she realized that Max's hand was pressed against his lower belly and it had been just over four weeks since the transformation had taken place. "Oh... oh, no, I don't think it's your appendix," she said as it clicked together. He made a pained questioning sound and she grimaced sympathetically. "I think it's just part of being a woman."

"What, for real? Women put up with this every month? It feels like someone's twisting a knife in me." She would have thought he was exaggerating if he didn't have tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry. Wow, I didn't even think this far ahead, of course this would be an issue with a full genetic swap." Max winced, and Kinga put an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, let me take care of you."

"You'd better take care of me... you did this to me." She'd never heard him this miserable before-- and she'd put a fair bit of work into making him miserable sometimes. She winced with every pained whimper that escaped him as she lead him back to his bedroom, then ran into hers to collect her usual helpful items. He was curled up on his side when she came back, practically in the fetal position. She set the armful of things down on his bed and immediately shook two Midol into her palm and handed them to him.

"Here, start with these." When he took them, she plugged in a heating pad and nudged his hands away to settle it against his belly. "The heat will help a little. And I was saving this, but I think you need it more than I do." She handed him a bar of extra-dark chocolate. He put it down next to his pillow and looked up at her with desperation in his gaze.

"Is this really what you all go through every month?"

"You're just not used to it because it's never happened before," she said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "You'll get used to it."

"I had no idea," he said, shaking his head. "And you just work through this? I can barely think straight through the pain."

"Wait for the Midol to kick in, it'll take it down a notch." 

"I thought I wasn't in a rush for you to fix the machine but I think I changed my mind," he said miserably. "This hurts more than the transformation and that was the worst thing I ever felt."

"Oh, come on, you're a pro at handling pain after what I've put you through before."

"I feel like I'm dying."

"I promise you aren't dying," she said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You might just wish you were for a couple of days. I'm guessing the bleeding hasn't started if you thought it was appendicitis..."

"You mean this is going to get worse?"

"It won't be this bad the whole time."

"God, I hope not... how long does this last?"

"Everyone's different. Hopefully just a couple of days though." He made another distressed sound and dropped his head against the pillow.

"A couple of days of this might kill me."

"Nah, you're stronger than that. You always have been." He gave her a doubtful look. "No, I mean it. You're the best second banana I could have asked for. I should have told you before now."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," he said weakly, and she reached for one of his hands to twine their fingers together.

"No. Well, I am trying to do that, but I'm not lying. You're great." He squeezed her hand and sighed, and she offered him a smile. "I'm sorry this is so awful for you. But it won't be this bad for long."

"It's fucking terrible right now," he said, and her brows shot up. "I'm just going to... lie here and wait for it to hurt less, I guess."

"Can I get you anything before I go back to work?"

"Yeah. If you could get me the book on my desk..." She looked over, expecting fiction, and found his diary instead. She grabbed the pen next to it too and set them on the bed next to him. "Thanks."

"Call me if you need me," she said, and left him alone. Squishy waved at him from the bedside table and he gathered the handful of sparkly goo and let it wrap itself around his wrist.

She'd promised the pain would recede, but it was far from the first time she'd lied to him, and he didn't think it had been on purpose this time. He waited forty-five minutes for the Midol to kick in before he realized it wasn't going to make any difference at all, and then he made himself sit up even though moving turned up the volume on the pain. Squishy dropped off his wrist and spread out over his belly, where it started to vibrate slightly and let out a low rumbling sound. Well, that was new... 

He opened his diary and flipped to the back, a grid he'd sketched out with two rows and two columns. The columns were labeled "Pro" and "Con" and the rows marked with the male and female symbols. So far, the female con square only had "can't get myself off" written in it, which had been heavily offset by the all caps and underlined entry in the pro square: "KINGA WANTS TO TOUCH ME" His hand shook as he wrote in the newest con: "holy fuck the literal worst pain I've ever been in"

He stared at the chart, weighing everything he'd written there so far. The pro female box was almost comically full of points. Up until today, it had been pretty great, really. Seeing the world in perfect color-- seeing _Kinga_ in perfect color-- was the very first thing he'd realized after walking out of the machine and even that would have been enough to give him pause before walking back into it. That he enjoyed the trappings of femininity had been a surprise, but being called pretty went right to his head after a lifetime of being dismissed, and he loved all the little grace notes, the polish on his nails and the wings on his eyeliner and the tiny pops of color he couldn't have even seen before the transformation. 

Then, of course, there was the big one. He'd craved Kinga's affection for so long that finally receiving it was better than anything he'd ever experienced before. Knowing that being in this shape was the only way she'd give it to him had already made him consider staying this way. The amount of agony he was in now made him second-guess that decision. What was her love worth to him? _Anything_ , he realized. _Everything._ Which would hurt worse, this betrayal by his body on a monthly basis, or the lack of her touch now that he knew what it was like? Probably he should find out how bad this was going to be before he made that call. Maybe Kinga was right, maybe it just seemed awful because it was the first time. Maybe it wouldn't be this bad the whole time. Maybe it would only be a couple of days.

It was not a couple of days. The pain lingered for four days before the bleeding even started, and that was its own trial as Kinga tried to show him how to deal with it. Up until this point, anyone on Moon 13 who needed to deal with a period used a menstrual cup to cut down on the amount of waste accumulating on the moon, and demonstrating that was by far the most awkward interaction they'd ever had except for maybe that time he'd had too many strawberry daiquiris and thought reading her his poetry was a good idea. At least the aftermath of this awkward interaction was better than the other one: they'd ended up cuddling and talking, Kinga's hand moving thoughtlessly and sweetly up and down his side the whole time.

"Want to hear a really pathetic story about my first period?" she offered.

"I want to hear anything about yourself you want to share with me," he said, and she gave him a smile.

"My grandmother sent me to boarding school the year I was supposed to start middle school. Dropped me off with a suitcase and a box of stuff and a backpack and peaced the fuck out. This was... what, less than a month after my dad went starbaby. I was already a wreck. And she just dumped me in this new place with no support and no real way to contact her aside from writing letters that I'm pretty sure she never read anyways." Max nodded, and Kinga shrugged, the hurt so old that it was just an anecdote now. "So I got up to my dorm room, met my roommate, and spent the rest of the night curled up in bed crying my eyes out. Dana didn't know what to do with me so she just sort of left me alone. I cried myself to sleep that first night. Woke up the next morning feeling absolutely numb, just totally detached from my emotions. I got up out of bed and it looked like a crime scene. And I just... didn't react. You'd think I would have flipped out, but it was like my feelings had been switched off. I woke Dana up and asked her what to do and for the next three days I didn't... really feel anything. I should have been scared, or worried, or excited, or anything at all. But I was just numb. All the bullshit about 'oh you're a woman now'... literally the day after my grandma abandoned me. But she'd been the only adult woman in my personal life and all I knew, the only thing I was sure of at that point, was that I didn't want to be the kind of woman she was."

"I don't think I've ever seen you react dispassionately to anything," Max said, and Kinga snorted.

"I don't think I've ever reacted dispassionately to anything besides that. By the time I left that school the on staff psychologist had already told me what they thought was wrong with me, and..." She shrugged. "Overreacting is a big part of it. But that first time around, I shut down. Not even from pain. Just out of shock, I think."

"Who could blame you, though? You were going through a traumatic situation."

"Everyone had the totally wrong idea about me for the first week I was there. Hell, I barely recognized myself. I got there as one person and I left as a different person."

"I wonder what that feels like," Max said dryly, and she snorted and rested her head against his.

"Do you like the person you've become? Because I didn't like the person I became."

"I think I do." He paused to figure out what he wanted to say, then pulled back to look her in the eyes. "I like the person you are. And I like the person I am because of you. Not just shape-wise but everything I've become because of associating with you." Kinga blinked, and Max thought about what had been on his mind for days: what he'd become because of her and how much pain he was willing to endure for her sake. "Kinga?"

"Yeah?"

"What would you say if I asked you to change the pronouns you use for me?" Kinga blinked again and sat up a little straighter.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Is that what you want?"

"I think so."

"Even though it hurts to be like this?"

"I think it would hurt more to not be like this if that meant you wouldn't want me any more." The reaction Kinga gave was not the one Max had been expecting: she looked like she'd been slapped in the face. 

"Does that mean you want to stay this way?"

"Maybe not forever, but... for now. Yeah." 

"What pronouns do you want? Neutral ones or..."

"No. Female ones. I won't know how I feel about it until it happens, so... let's make it happen." Kinga nodded and finally, finally smiled. Max relaxed with a sigh, surprised at how stressful that had been until Kinga had agreed to it. 

"Are you just doing this for my sake?" Kinga asked after a long moment of studying Max's face. Max huffed a laugh.

"Uh, yes, I thought that was obvious." She shrugged. "You only want a girlfriend. And all I want is to be what you want. So... here we are."

"Kinda funny... I figured today would be the thing that would make you want to switch back the most."

"It's not a party. I'm choosing it anyways." She curled an arm around her middle and added, "But I'm probably still going to bitch about how much it hurts while this is going on."

"Is it still bad? Five days of pain isn't normal, it should have let up by now."

"It hasn't gotten any better," Max said. "I still feel like I'm being stabbed from the inside. And nothing you've given me has put a dent in it." Kinga frowned, brow furrowing.

"That's really not good. Not even the Vicodin?" Max shook her head, and Kinga sighed. "That's the strongest painkiller we have on the moon."

"I'll survive," Max said. "I might even be happy about surviving. Keep touching me and I'll be happy." Kinga ran a hand through her curls and Max's eyes slid shut with a happy murmur.

The next experiment was two days after that. Max didn't give anyone a chance to say anything after the show open before she spoke up.

"I have a request." She waited for Jonah and the bots to nod. "If you could use female pronouns for me now... that would be great."

"Are you giving up on Kinga fixing you?" Crow asked.

"It's kind of amazing he didn't give up sooner," Tom said. Jonah tapped them both on the back of the head.

" _She_ doesn't need to be fixed, there's nothing wrong with her. I'm cool with it, Max. If you're happy like this, and you do seem happier, then I'm happy for you."

"Thank you," Max said. "Oh, uh, the pet you gave me..."

"Squishy?"

"Yeah. It purrs. Did you know they purr?" Jonah pushed his glasses up, one brow arching.

"What do you mean by purr?"

"Well, it kind of buzzes... the edges vibrate. And it makes a rumbly sound."

"I did not know they did that," Jonah said. "What was happening when it did that?"

"It was on my stomach. The day the pain started, it just spread out over my stomach and did that."

"That's interesting..." 

"It's gone rogue," Crow said. "It'll have to be put down."

"When did you get so mean?" Kinga asked. "It's kind of entertaining."

"I don't think it's entertaining," Max said. "Let's just do the invention exchange." 

"Yeah, sure," Jonah said, mind working away as he looked at her, thinking ahead to the next invention exchange already. Pain? He might be able to do something about pain.


	7. The Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max is terrified of what will happen when she goes through the repaired machine. It's up to Kinga to prove her fears unfounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn, this fic... went all kinds of places I did not expect it to when I sat down to bang out a funny little genderswap ficlet for a genre challenge. I got ALL KINDS OF FEELINGS over this one.
> 
> Thanks for coming on this ride with me, folks. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have.

The first time Max went through the monthly agony, the pain lasted for ten days. It only took half of that time for Kinga to agree that what she was feeling wasn't just average period pain, but between the intensity and the duration of the pain Kinga had a guess at what was causing it by the time it let up.

"So let me get this straight," Max said, looking down at her diary where she'd been keeping track of all sorts of things since the transformation, the day after the agony had more or less subsided. "You completely reshaped me on the cellular level, and I still ended up with some bullshit biological condition that didn't exist before that point?"

"I'm not sure I'd say that's accurate," Kinga sighed. "But you obviously have no idea about any kind of family history of female problems..."

"Never even met my grandparents," Max said with a shrug. "And Dad was an only child."

"So this could just have been hiding in your genetic code all along and the swap triggered it."

"I guess it's possible."

"I mean, I'd say it's given, not possible," Kinga said. "I'm really sorry, I wouldn't wish endometriosis on my worst enemy, and you are the furthest thing from my worst enemy."

"It's pretty miserable. I was at a nine out of ten pain rating for a week and a half, and if that's going to happen every month for as long as I'm like this..."

"I'm working double time on the machine. You might have to go through this one more time, but probably not more than once."

"I'd have to be out of my mind to want to stay like this forever, huh," Max said, looking down at her hands and sighing.

"I'm awful and selfish but even I'm not awful enough to demand you go through this for my sake," Kinga said immediately, reaching for Max's hands. "I just... I don't know what my reaction will be when you switch back."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Max said sadly, and she looked up to meet Kinga's eyes. "I'm almost crazy enough to just suck it up and deal with the pain if it means you won't go back to treating me like before."

"Oh, Max, give me a little more credit than that..." Max fixed her with a skeptical look, and Kinga sighed. "No, fine, you're completely justified. But I'm hurt that you think I could just forget about this and go back to being so cruel to you."

"You've been clear about your terms of affection," Max said. "I want to keep meeting them. But I feel like I'm not that lovable when I'm snappish because I'm in pain and I'm definitely not useful when I hurt too much to move."

"At least you're not in pain any more," Kinga said. She leaned her shoulder against Max's and laced their fingers together. "I... I wouldn't have done it if I'd known this would happen to you."

"Yes you would have," Max said. "But you would have tested the machine more thoroughly so it wouldn't catch fire. And honestly... It's not the worst thing that ever happened to me."

"It isn't?"

"It's the worst pain, but not the worst thing. If you put me through this and then decided you didn't want me after all, that would be the worst thing."

"That was pretty unlikely," Kinga said, and Max snorted.

"Well, you think I'm cute now and I don't look that different so I must have been at least a little bit cute to you before."

"Maybe a little."

"So I might be a little bit cute still if I change back."

"Well, you've changed your whole aesthetic since this happened," Kinga said, running her fingers through Max's hair. Six weeks wasn't a lot of time to let hair grow, but considering how close Max had kept the sides clipped before, even just an inch softened her appearance considerably. "Just don't cut your hair back to how it used to be..."

"Are you kidding? I love how soft it is now that I'm letting it grow out. And I love how you can't keep your hands out of it." Max tipped her head into Kinga's touch, smiling. "I love a lot of things about being female, honestly... I like feeling...."

"Pretty?"

"Desirable," Max corrected, and sighed quietly. "I like feeling desired by you. And, yes, pretty. And like it's okay to feel all of my feelings."

"Couldn't you before?"

"Kinga, you were the _entire_ reason I couldn't before."

"Sure, blame me and not the patriarchy."

"I didn't care if other people thought I was a soft boy," Max said, pulling back to look Kinga in the eyes. "I cared about you crushing my dreams every time I told you how I felt."

"Oh... fuck, I'm worse than the patriarchy. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing."

"I kind of do."

"I just said that you don't."

"Yeah, but I wronged you in so many ways..."

"Yeah, you really did." Max caught Kinga's hands between her own and offered her a small smile. "So don't do it all over again when I'm not in your preferred shape, okay?"

"Don't let me get away with it, then."

"Oh, believe me, I am going to be doing everything in my power to get you to treat me as much the same as you treat me now as possible. Maybe you won't want me naked in your bed any more but hopefully you won't kick me out of it entirely."

"It took a shockingly short amount of time for me to get used to falling asleep holding you," Kinga said, pulling Max's hand up to kiss her knuckles. "And you already know I don't like to deprive myself of anything I enjoy."

"I'm counting on it." Max bit her lip when Kinga gently bit one of her fingertips, trying not to whimper. "But you do enjoy me right now...."

"I really, really do," Kinga purred, and set about demonstrating the extent of that enjoyment, much to the delight of them both.

The next day found Max pacing around nervously for a few minutes before steeling herself and calling up to the Satellite of Love. It took a couple of minutes for Jonah to respond, but he smiled when he caught sight of her.

"Hey Max. How's it going?"

"I need advice," Max said without prevarication, and Jonah settled himself against the console, ready for a long conversation. "You said you have a trans friend, right?"

"Yeah, he started transitioning a couple years ago."

"Do you know anyone who... isn't that sure about it?"

"What, like genderfluid?"

"I guess so," Max said with a shrug.

"Well, you're more literally genderfluid than any other human being right now, aren't you?"

"I'm just trying to figure out what to do when Kinga gets the machine fixed, and.... would it be weird if I kept the female pronouns even after I switch back to a male body?"

"Do you really want to change back? Because you don't sound psyched about the idea."

"I'll be honest, I'm just too much of a coward to deal with two weeks of agony again if I can avoid it," Max sighed. "If it wasn't for the endometriosis bullshit, I'd have no problem with just staying like this. I like how I feel about myself better this way."

"How you feel about it is way more important than the topography of your body," Jonah said. "If you like being female then just keep presenting as female, you know? This is pretty much the safest place for you to figure it out on your own terms. Kinga likes you as a lady, I'm not a gender regressive toolbag who'll try to police you, and if the bots try to give you shit I'll shut it down hard. And I doubt the Boneheads will trash talk you over it, they all seem pretty gender neutral anyways."

"It's not weird?"

"Max. You're a mad scientist's second in command on a moon base with dinosaurs in the basement. I don't think 'weird' has been a useful metric in your life for a hell of a lot longer than just since Kinga shoved you into that machine."

"That's a completely valid point," Max said. "Thanks, Jonah. You've been far nicer to me than you have any reason to be."

"I know you've been on the side of evil for a while but decent people don't need a reason to be nice to other people," Jonah said gently, and Max huffed a laugh.

"I seem to vaguely recall something like this from the distant past," she said.

"Honestly, you seem a lot happier now than you did before. And Kinga's been significantly less bitchy since the two of you..." Jonah held up two crossed fingers, and Max smiled. "I think everyone's quality of life improved."

"Except for the endometriosis."

"Yeah. Except for that. So what's your strategy for dealing with that, anyways?"

"What do you mean?"

"Which hurt worse, the transformation or--"

"The transformation was about thirty seconds of the same amount of pain that I was in for ten days," Max said, and Jonah winced. "But I don't know if it'll get reset every time and give me a month of peace first or if it'll just... stick me in at whatever point of the cycle it would have been anyways."

"Worth testing, once you can," Jonah said. "I think figuring out how to cheat the entire system of sex and gender is pretty top notch mad science. You're a pioneer."

"Not where I thought my career would take me, but I'm okay with that."

"Did you talk to Kinga about building one of those machines on Earth?"

"I think I've talked her around to agreeing with me about how to do it, too," Max said. "Her part of the plan is less realistic than my part of it. So hopefully she'll let me get started without having to wait around for her to start too."

"You don't think you could let me go if it turned out to be super successful for the two of you, do you?"

"I can't make any promises, but I can make an effort."

"Thanks, Max."

It was weird and anxiety-inducing working against an unknown deadline, but Kinga was focused intently on fixing the machine, racing against Max's biology to spare her another round of that terrible pain. Max was caught in ambivalence about her own body, wary of the return of the agony while she was uncertain of its timing, but also aware of the fact that this shape provided not only the most pain but also the most pleasure she'd ever felt. It was a hard fact to avoid when Kinga was so determined to remind her about the pleasure as often as Max would let her, which was at least twice a day because Kinga was either insatiable or determined to make up for lost time. Max was coming to the conclusion that she was a hedonist for melting as soon as Kinga touched her almost every time.

The closer Kinga got to being done with the repairs on the machine, the less there was that Max could do to help her with it. She spent a lot of time with the colored pencils Kinga had given her, moving past the coloring books into doing sketches of her own, and even finished a portrait of the occupants of the Satellite of Love when Jonah convinced the bots to sit for it. Jonah had been a little worried about the bots' reaction to Max's paradigm shift, but the only real impact any of them had noticed was that Tom Servo opted to cross-dress during their skits a whole lot more frequently. In fact, it was Servo who came up with an interesting suggestion during one of their portrait sessions.

"Why don't you do art when you can't see the colors right, and then see how it looks when you change back?" he asked. Max's brows shot up.

"That could be really cool," Jonah said. "You'd just have to go by the colors you could see and not the names of the colors on the pencils and your memory of how they look."

"That's assuming that the machine will work again," Max said. Yards behind where Max had set up her easel, Kinga scoffed and leaned out of the panel she'd been working inside.

"Oh come on, Max, I'm not such an awful scientist that I'd fuck this up the same way twice running."

"I'm not assuming that you'll fail! I'm just... also not assuming that things will go smoothly."

"I guess that's fair," Kinga said. "You're not unjustified in having a lack of faith in me. But I'm doing my best for you."

"That's all I can ask for," Max said, and turned back to her portraiture.

The machine wasn't fixed before the pain came back, but Jonah had worked out an electronic pain management system that took the pain from a nine to a four, and that plus the weird purring Max's Squishy did meant that it was shitty but not unbearable. By the the evening of the third day of Max putting up with the pain, Kinga came to her room to pull her down the hall by both hands, anxious to put her in the repaired and tested machine and cure the pain problem directly.

Max wore the lilac dress for the transformation, remembering acutely how uncomfortable clothing had become in the wake of the first transformation and opting for the least restrictive and most comfortable article of clothing she owned now. She hesitated just outside the door of the machine, casting an anxious look back at Kinga, who stepped up and caught her face between both hands, leaning up to press her lips to Max's forehead.

"I love you," Kinga said, and Max's lips twitched in what wanted to be a smile. "That's not going to change when you step out again. I just want you to feel better."

"I love you too," Max said, and she pulled the door closed behind her. Kinga tapped on the tablet control, crossed her fingers, and hit the big red button. Lights flashed, smoke vented, but no scream issued from within the machine, and when the door swung open, Max walked out: pale, shaky, and back in her original shape, more round than curvy. For a second, Kinga just looked at her, and color flooded Max's face as uncertainty set in.

"Oh, no... come here, cupcake. You're still beautiful." Kinga held her arms open and Max dove into them, sniffling into Kinga's shoulder turning into hiccupy sobs in an instant. "Shhh, shhh... it's okay. It's okay, really. I've got you."

If Kinga had thought Max would be less emotional with her Y chromosome back in place, she'd been sorely mistaken. It took a couple of minutes for Max to cry herself out with Kinga rubbing her back and murmuring reassurances into her curls before Max was willing to lift her head and look Kinga in the eyes.

There really wasn't much different. Given the amount of time Kinga had spent looking at Max over the past couple of months, she could see how little had changed in absolute terms: same dark eyes with feelings shining through them clear as if they were written there to read, same very biteable lower lip. The cosmetic changes Max had made had persisted-- her hair was still a soft cloud, her brows were still impeccably shaped, and the eyeliner she'd applied that morning was smudged with tears but still mostly in place. Kinga lifted Max's hand and kissed the back of it.

"How do you feel?"

"Not in pain," Max said, and she held her hands out to her sides as if doing a tightrope walk. "Unbalanced, again. I'd gotten used to how my weight was distributed. It's not a whole lot different, but it's enough to notice."

"You hungry?"

"Famished."

"Come on, then." They shared a subdued dinner. Kinga tried to make conversation, but Max just looked uneasy, like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Kinga to push her away. By the end of the meal, they’d settled into a not entirely comfortable silence, and when Max stood up from the table she paused with her hands on the surface.

“I think I’d like to spend a little time by myself now,” she said, and Kinga nodded. 

“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need. You know where to find me when you want me.” Kinga went back to her own room to finish updating the schematics of the machine. Max had found someone back at Gizmonics who was willing to help construct a copy of the genderswap machine back on Earth, and Kinga put the last touches on the blueprints and saved the document, not quite ready to send them away just yet. Max had sold her on the benefits of making the technology available, but Kinga was still determined to find a way to use it for evil as well as good. There was a tap on Kinga’s door, and then it swung open.

"Do you still want me to sleep with you?" Max asked, hesitating in the doorway of Kinga's room. Kinga looked over to find her in the same combination of t-shirt and soft sleep pants she always wore to bed, and smiled and curled her finger in invitation.

"Yeah, get in here. I was wondering if you'd come to me or if you'd make me go get you myself."

"I'm an optimist."

"No kidding," Kinga said fondly. "I want you to be right when you hope for the best from me, though."

"Then be nice to me tonight, please."

"Get cozy, then." For a moment Kinga just stood beside the bed and watched Max get settled, steadying her resolve for what she'd decided to do. Then she turned off the light and got into bed too, curling herself around Max from behind. "Come here," she breathed against the back of Max's neck, wrapping an arm around her snugly. Max sighed and relaxed for the two seconds it took Kinga to send her hand downward, and then Max caught her by the wrist just before she found what she was reaching for.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. "You know you're just gonna be weirded out."

"I'll get over it." Kinga kissed Max's neck and made her shiver. "You're my girlfriend and I want to make you feel good. Regardless of variable anatomy."

"That's generous and unnecessary," Max said. "I won't die if you don't get me off until I'm back in a shape you like."

"Max, unless you really don't want me to do it, will you just let me be nice without talking me out of it? I'm trying to be less shitty than I was before."

"Sorry, yes, if you really want to then--" Kinga didn't wait for the end of the sentence before pressing her hand between Max's legs.

"Huh." Max tried not to squeak at being explored by gentle fingers, but being touched by her like this had been one of Max's fantasies for a very long time. "It's softer than I thought it'd be."

"I thought sex was off the table while I was like this," Max said. "And it takes a bit to get me worked up even when it is on the table. Just... mmm. Keep touching me and it won't be as soft in a minute."

"I know _that_ much," Kinga said, and Max giggled and then gasped when Kinga's hand slid under her pajamas to get a better grip. "I think it's less weird if I don't look," she confessed.

"I'm okay with that," Max said, and reached back to twine her fingers through Kinga's hair. "Whatever you need to be comfortable with it."

"I'm comfortable with this," Kinga said, and when she bit Max's neck her cock twitched in Kinga's fingers. "Oh, that's neat," she said, running her fingers up and down Max's length before immediately succeeding in replicating that twitch with a bite closer to her shoulder.

"Cheater." The accusation sounded more like a whimper.

"It's cheating to do things I already know you like? I know how you reacted before when I bit you, I wanted to see how you'd react now. And it was educational."

"I'm a science project."

"You're my girlfriend," Kinga corrected, "and I want to know how to make you happy. And this is not as weird as I thought it would be. You make all the same sounds, you feel the same in my arms... not in my hand though." She squeezed in demonstration and Max let out a definite whimper. "Am I doing okay? Is this good?"

"Tighten your grip and it'll be amazing... ahh, yeah, perfect." The shiver that ran through Max proved the truth of her words. Kinga loved making Max shiver.

"You said it feels different like this, didn't you?"

"Yeah..." Max was breathless and Kinga couldn't resist the urge to mess with her just a little bit.

"Tell me how?" A desperate whine escaped Max, and Kinga hid her smile in the bend of Max's neck. "I want to understand." It was a low blow and Kinga knew it.

"It's... fuck." Max looked over her shoulder and then sighed. "Can I look at you? Or are you not comfortable with that?" Kinga moved a bit away and Max rolled onto her back, pouting when she looked up at Kinga and the amused expression on her face. "You're mean to me."

"I'm being _so_ nice to you," Kinga purred, moving her hand in a way that made Max's lashes flutter with pleasure.

"You're both."

"Would you rather I stop?"

" _No_ ," Max said instantly, "definitely not, no."

"Then tell me how it feels."

"It's... it's like the difference between dancing across a room and walking across it..." She bit her lip and lifted her hips into Kinga's touch. "It's more straightforward like this. But also not as much fun."

"Not as much fun for you or not as much fun for me?"

"I think much less fun for you and a bit less fun for me."

"I'm having a surprising amount of fun right now, actually," Kinga said, and she curled one leg around Max's and held her down playfully. "But we should definitely go dancing some time."

"Metaphorically or literally?"

“Well, we do have an entire band here on the Moon…” Max let out a breathless little giggle.

“Will you let me lead?”

“If it’ll make you happy, sure.” Kinga leaned in to kiss Max as she kept moving her hand, swallowing Max’s increasingly frantic gasps and sighs until Max let out a desperate and absolutely adorable yelp and spilled over Kinga’s fingers. “Huh,” Kinga said, and Max whimpered a little as she drew her hand away and touched one fingertip to her tongue. “You know, you don’t even really taste that different.”

“Oh god.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do to make you happy,” Kinga said as she reached for her bedside table for a tissue to clean her hand and Max’s belly off with. “Dancing to the Skeleton Crew, or with my inventions, or whatever.”

“ _You_ make me happy,” Max said, and Kinga offered her a wry smile.

“I’m sorry you had to worry so much about how I’d react to you now. I love you. It doesn’t matter what shape you’re in. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine.” Max didn’t even have words to respond to her with, just flung her arms around Kinga and buried her face in Kinga’s shoulder, too overwhelmed with emotion to do anything but cling to her tightly until sleep claimed them both.


End file.
